With that in mind, let’s begin with attitude. It takes a lot of it to make it as a writer but what really separates the published from the slush pile is the ability to adopt someone else’s – in this case, a child’s. And I don’t mean stroppy adolescent stomping (although that has a place when used judiciously). I’m referring to that sense of possibility that all children are born with and some sadly lose too early. To write successfully for children, you need to look at the world with those same fresh eyes. Note I haven’t used the word ‘wonder’ – that’s because it’s become somewhat hackneyed in this context and it might encourage you to sprinkle too much stardust on your work.

Children may have a fresh perspective on the world but that does not necessarily make them sentimental or saccharine in their views. If you ever want a ruthlessly honest opinion on something, just ask a child. They do not filter and most have not yet learned to prevaricate. They tell it like it is and it is this emotional honesty I would urge you to strive for rather than an adult take on what is mistakenly labelled ‘innocence.’ Children may be innocent in one sense but they are also marvellously knowing. Very little escapes them and their response to adversity is often humbling. Try testing a what-if scenario through a child’s eyes – ask a real one if possible. What you discover may just provide the basis for a truly original plot that grips young minds as opposed to a story told from an adult perspective.

One thing: please, please don’t send me your synopsis or manuscript. That’s what agents are for and receiving other people’s work puts authors in a very difficult ethical position.

My Piccadilly stablemate Cathy Hopkins was another guest and startled us all with the revelation that she used to be a rock chick.   She did, however, strike a chord close to my own heart when she talked about the potential horrors of school author visits.   As everyone knows, adolescence can be a tricky time.  It’s ten times more tricky for an author when faced with rows and rows of them, all giving you that 15 year-old, dead-eyed ‘Am I bovvered?’ stare.  Frankly, I think we should get danger money although I hasten to add that I quite like a bit of attitude and every single pupil I have met has been lovely.  Well, most of them.

For more you can listen in to the podcast here:

http://tinyurl.com/d22r8p

It’s hard enough to achieve and maintain tension without having to factor in GPS and phone technology, all of which mean that effectively your protagonist need never be out of touch.  The trouble is, vulnerability = danger and unless you expose your protagonist to mounting peril your levels of tension will be more flaccid than the average ex-banker’s excuses.   Better perhaps to follow author MJ Rose’s lead and set your next book in an era where such devices did not exist (in her case, 1948).

Then again, some writers – notably Stephen King – use technology as a main plot device.  Those of us who have read Cell may never look at our phones in the same way again although I prefer the more visceral kick of the book/film Misery which illustrated all too clearly that human depravity outstrips that of any machine.  Of course, it’s the humans behind the machine who are responsible for what unfolds.  As writers, we need to embrace technology as a necessary part of a contemporary plot without running scared from it.  After all, phones can be turned off and Wifi doesn’t work everywhere.

Believe it or not, there are places on the planet where you still have to trek up a steep hill to get a signal.  I should know – my Bulgarian cottage is one such retreat.  It’s the perfect place to kick back and relax (or write) simply because there are so few distractions.  Even the ancient landline chooses when and how it will deign to take calls.  Closer to home, I’ve experienced dead spots when training SAS-style in the Brecon Beacons.  Or maybe it was a cunning plan to isolate us so we couldn’t go soft and call for help and home comforts…

For a fiction writer, there are so many choices.  You can use technology to provide key plot points or you can simply nod to it now and then.  Rather than bemoan the fact that we cannot rely on sometimes hackneyed plot devices, we should embrace the new and use it.  Writers are, after all, magpies, picking and mixing whatever works.   The trick is to make it serve you, the writer, and the story.  If your plot hinges on a missed connection it can still happen.  Although if that was all my plot hinged on I might start to take a long, hard look at my characterisation and ability to create a rich narrative.

New York Times piece:

http://tinyurl.com/c8ul4q